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'Perhaps humankind can't bear too much reality, but neither can it bear too much unreality, too much abuse of the truth.' (Saul Bellow)

'448 OMAR KHAYYÁM Omar had a personality; I, for better or worse, have none. In an hour I’ll have strayed from what I am at this moment; tomorrow I’ll have forgotten what I am today. Those who are who they are, like Omar, live in just one world, the external one. Those who aren’t who they are, like me, live not only in the external world but also in a diversified, ever-changing inner world. Try as we might, we could never have the same philosophy as Omar’s. I harbour in me, like unwanted souls, the very philosophies I criticize. Omar could reject them all, for they were all external to him, but I can’t reject them, because they’re me.' (F Pessoa)

'Mrs Glass looked over, abstractedly, at the blue bathmat, across the tiled floor. Zooey stood as still as possible, in order not to break her mood. "You can't live in the world with such strong likes and dislikes," Mrs Glass said to the bathmat, then turned again toward Zooey and gave him a long look, with very little, if any, morality in it. "Regardless of what you may think, young man," she said.' (JD Salinger)

'Art only begins where imitation ends.' (Oscar Wilde)

'"I like zooey's blog," Steiner would say, "It's the only internet site with a foyer. Saul and I often meet there, by the ethereal kiosk. The ice-cream is splendid."' (ThetisMercurio)

'What is the use of telling people repeatedly that the Society is not a sect and then behave as if it were one?' (Steiner)

'Laughter means distance. Where laughter is absent, madness begins. The moment one takes the world with complete seriousness one is potentially insane.' (Jens Bjørneboe)

'If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you.' (Oscar Wilde)

'Let's act like sphinxes, however falsely, until we reach the point of no longer knowing who we are. For we are, in fact, false sphinxes, with no idea of what we are in reality. The only way to be in agreement with life is to disagree with ourselves. Absurdity is divine.' (F Pessoa)

the basics

the posts on this blog are written by alicia hamberg, with the guidance of mr dog, canineosophist, and with inspiration from rudolf steiner, anthroposophist, and the rest of our friends, people, dogs and various strange beings who hang out with us in this extraordinary ethereal kiosk

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2016.07.27

Writing in an obscure language on a fringe topic means having three readers, five of whom misunderstand you. My perverted ambition is to be misunderstood more widely.

Joking aside, that’s of course not entirely true, though it is how it is sometimes feel; statistics say something a bit different. But it is true that it is a fringe interest, and that readers from Sweden are a small minority of an already tiny crowd. There’s a constant battle in my head: will I write in English or will I write in Swedish? I think I’ll keep doing both. (The bigger question: will I write at all, about this topic or about what I do with it or myself?)

I believe what makes it troublesome, and lonely, is that not only is it a fringe interest – my position within this fringe is more and more becoming a fringe position. Maybe that’s just an excuse for being rather hopeless as a human being. I’ve been consistently doing the ”wrong” thing.

I’ll write generally now, though what I’m saying was partly but very loosely inspired by a couple of comments made to me recently.

I want to speak of the nuances that get lost. One of them is: one may not want a worldview, one may not be on the lookout for a one and only Truth that will explain the universe. It is not a pitiable position to be in to investigate ideas – not even to engage with spiritual worldviews – without being a ”seeker”. Other people may trust in the existential relief that such a worldview can give; I don’t know that it can for me, and it isn’t my aim.

To me it’s no improvement to exchange a certain doubt for a doubtful certainty.

And I don’t think I want the salvation of a solid, stable worldview.

At the same time, it does change you; of course it does, as any quest does. I would be lying if I said it didn’t. The other perspective does change your world, and no matter what your initial ideas were, they are transformed. Miscellaneous opinions are replaced by a broader panorama of — well, the life that ideas get incorporated in when they stop being the objects of mere opinions. Some of it gives life meaning, just like everything you do (though I admit that Steiner is different from collecting stamps).

The ideal would be: not to search for the ”right” thing to think (too much effort, public and private, is wasted on that pursuit) but to think better.

Naturally, Steiner, as well as a number of other people, authors, thinkers, dogs (and so on, even one cat, I regret to admit), have changed the backdrop against which my life and my thoughts unfold. But I’m not shopping around for a worldview, I’m not a seeker in that regard, I don’t resemble those people who show up in a spiritual commune or at a skeptical conference and find community and a meaning of life. I’ve never seemed to be able to achieve that, even as I can envy those who do.

Contrary to what people seem to assume, this doesn’t mean engaging with Steiner (or anyone else who has had an influence on one’s thinking) was a waste. It doesn’t mean I’m driven by an impulse to go ”shopping” for something else in the mall of spirituality and easily digested, ready-made worldviews, because finding one, and settling down in it, has never been a goal.

I like to think that thinking better – rather than focusing on thinking the right thing – increases one’s opportunities. It widens the circle.

But I’m not sure that is always true in every sense. It does deprive you of a community of like-minded people who all think the ”right” thing! And the upside, well, frankly, I have only glimpsed it, if even that. I can see the benefits of a comfortable and safe enclave, and of course I must concede it fills a purpose. My desire is for that, too, on the surface; but something else emerges underneath, like a sea monster, and overrides that desire.

One part of it is perhaps boredom. The wish of my conscious self is to be in harmony with people, to be understood by them; the dream is for someone to share my world. But there must be some other impulse calling from my unconscious, because I constantly gravitate towards those who don’t; I constantly gravitate towards that which I’m not allowed to be a part of, and watch it from outside. The way I’ve done with everything from childhood and onwards. It goes much deeper than boredom – a feeling of not being at home anywhere, anyway. And that, again, is something more profoundly pathological than shopping for philosophies can cure.

I don’t want to find ”myself” (in the most ambiguous sense of that word!) and I don’t think I want to find those who are like me (if they exist) – oh, Dog, I’m so tired of myself – no, I, to some extent, go for the opposite, that which is contrary. I think because, ultimately, I find myself there, too, another self. I find more of myself there.

*

Occasionally, there’s an epiphany; the one thing that makes everything worth it. A moment of clarity. Only a moment, then life gets everything messed up again. But anyway, the other day I read (in a useless book) some lines by Goethe, intrigued I went online and found the poem, and in that moment I completely understood – even if words fail me now – the consistent and ever-present love Steiner has for Goethe; and I think, in fact, that I understand him better through those lines of Goethe. Strangely, the next day, completely by accident (or intervention of strong karmic forces, obviously), I read a lecture by Steiner where he quotes from the same poem.